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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Melody
“It had to rain today,” Ash said. “Why does it always rain when there is a funeral?”
I shook my head as I stared at the stained glass window in the church. Of course, I couldn’t see the rain through the thick, colored panes, but I knew it was out there. Pounding to the ground, reminding us what a fucked up world we lived in where we couldn’t even mourn our loved ones in the comfort of a beautiful day without the sky opening up, reminding us just how vulnerable we really were. Or perhaps, as I liked to think, maybe the angels were crying along with us because my big brother had been taken from the world way before he was supposed to be.
I watched my mom bend over my brother’s broken body as he lay in the casket. My dad stood beside her. I was glad he was here. I could hear Mom’s sobs from where we sat in the pews.
“Teddy. My baby. Oh, Teddy, what are we going to do without you? I miss you already,” she cried. My dad took out a hanky from his back pocket and wiped his own eyes. He always had a hanky in his back pocket.
I hadn’t cried. Not when we went to identify his body. Not when we got home. Not today. I was just numb.
My mom turned away from the casket, and my dad ushered her out of the room.
I stood up. It was my turn. I was supposed to say goodbye. How the hell was I supposed to do that? Teddy was everything to me.
“Mel?” Asher grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “You okay?”
I nodded. I think. Maybe I shook my head. It didn’t matter. There was no correct answer for what I was.
Numb.
I let go of Asher’s hand and slowly made my way to the casket. The body that lay inside, the shell of what was once my brother looked like one of those wax figures in a museum, surrounded by soft white silk. Why did they put dead people in white silk? Was that something my mother ordered? He couldn’t feel how soft it was, but he did look peaceful, except for the bruises on his face that you could still see through the makeup. How had he gotten those bruises? It almost looked as if he’d been beaten. They said he got them from the airbag deploying on impact. They would be cremating his body after the service was over before burying his ashes in the family plot. I knew from Nora exactly how they did it and I couldn’t fathom that happening to my brother. I touched his hand and it was hard, so unnatural. My legs wobbled, and as if they vanished from my body, I sank to the floor.
I felt arms surround me. “Mel, I know it’s hard. Come on, baby. It’s time to go.”
I had no ability to get up or command my body to move or make my mouth speak. Asher lifted me, and I went along. Every nerve in my body was void of all sensation.
I sat on the sofa at my mom’s house. Friends and neighbors brought food. Asher placed a glass of something golden brown in my hand and told me to drink. I didn’t know what was in it. I sniffed at it. It was some kind of alcohol that smelled like almonds.
“It’s Amaretto. Something to take the edge off,” he said. “I’ll grab you some food.”
I didn’t want any food, but I couldn’t get my mouth to form the word “no.”
A man stood by my mom. I overheard him say he worked with Ted and how sorry he was. He’d been the one to request that Ted stay the week to finalize the last-minute details for the deal they had made with some contractors. That’s why my brother had still been in the city. That’s why my brother had been at that spot when the truck collided into the side of Ted’s car, crushing him. That’s why my brother was dead. I hated that man.
I rolled over, scrunching my pillow under my head. But turning was the wrong thing to do since the bright morning sun filtered in right at the level of my eyes. I squinted. I couldn’t understand how the sun could shine and act so happy when the world surrounding me was shrouded in darkness. I’d wanted the sun yesterday when we’d had the service. I thought it would help, but seeing it now only made me angry.
It didn’t matter anymore what day it was, though I was semi-cognizant of time passing, of Ash coming over to talk to me, of Erica peeking her head in every now and then, bringing me tea or whatever. I don’t think I’d uttered a single syllable since the night at the morgue. Not even a whimper. I couldn’t cry. My brother was dead and I couldn’t cry.I’m a horrible person. What kind of person can’t cry when they lose someone they love?
